


Everywhere We Go

by Vashti (tvashti)



Series: Many Mothers' [3]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, August 2019 TwistedShorts Ficathon, Community: twistedshorts, Female Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Warning: Immortan Joe, Women Being Awesome, just a reference to Old Joe, some proofreading we die liek mne, women learning how to be awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22168204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tvashti/pseuds/Vashti
Summary: Like many an older person, the Mother hasn’t fully adapted to the modern era.  Not that she was ever known for adapting herself to the people, places and things around her.  More like steam-rolling over them...
Series: Many Mothers' [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1587670
Kudos: 7
Collections: TwistedShorts





	Everywhere We Go

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2019 FAD. Revised for clarity and such, but it’s otherwise unchanged.

"It's been three weeks. More. What's taking them so long?" 

When this pronouncement was met with a persistent silence instead of sane reasoning, suggestions to get a war-party together, or even a huffy sigh, the silver-haired woman known best as the Mother leaned heavily on her walking stick and turned to the group behind her.

"What did I say?"

The only other old women in the room, the Vuvalini, burst into uncontrolled laughter. 

The Mother scowled. She would have also put her hands on her hips, but the walking stick had stopped being an affectation long ago. Instead she swore, which seemed to disturb the younger women in the room, but the two old biddies managed to sober. A little. 

"We stopped tracking time for longer than a day more than 20,000 days ago," one of them said between her sniggers.

"I could barely tell time before!" the Mother huffed. "Why don't you younger Slayers know what I'm talking about?"

"You forget, they're not all ours," said the other Vuvalini, far more soberly.

The Mother threw up the hand not grasping her walking stick. "Then one of you translate. I'm an old woman. Shouldn't you be taking care of me?"

Which set off both Vuvalini again. 

"I swear I--"

"Mother." The sweet voice of a young woman taller than the Mother stopped her tirade before it could get started. "I... I know the times and seasons."

The Mother squinted at the tall child who had separated herself from others. "You're a kid. How d'you know the old words?"

"We... We had a History Woman."

"I didn't see nothin' but Wretched down below," the Mother challenged.

The young woman swallowed and seemed almost as if she would go back. Then she swallowed again and squared her shoulders. "Old Joe provided one for us. To teach us pretty things and about the world according to his making. But she was a real History Woman. She taught us to read the word burgers--books," the young woman corrected herself at the Mother's raised eyebrows. "Miss Giddy taught us to read books. And about the world that was."

"So you're one of Old Joe's pretty little Wives." The Mother turned and spat.

The young woman's spine straightened. "We were not his wives."

The Mother smiled, a dangerous kind of joy written across her heavily lined face. "There we go. That's what I'm looking for. Sure, honey, you can translate for me. Stop those two old broads from laughing at an even older broad’s expense."

Which had the two in question giggling behind their hands like a pair of children. 

The Mother rolled her eyes and sighed. "This is what I get for mocking Giles all those years," she muttered. Wisely, no one who could hear her tried to respond. "Can we get back on topic here, people? Where is Abundance? It's been three weeks...”

The young woman stared at her, waiting for the Mother to continue before remembering that she was acting as translator. "Um, that's..." Her lips moved as she did the math. "...21 days or more?" Her eyes swung between the Mother and the Vuvalini.

"Sounds good to me, kid."

"Sure," and "That's good," came from the other two old women.

"It's been 21 days," the Mother began again, "and no Abundance and no sign of Furiosa's Fool."

"His name is Max," said the young woman. 

"Max. Right." The Mother waved a negligent hand as if their quarry's name didn't matter. Then she turned sharp eyes on her new translator. "What's your name? No way I'm calling you Sister. Had enough of that to last every lifetime I got."

Mumbling, the young woman ducked her head.

"Come again? My hearing's not what it used to be."

The Vuvalini sniggered behind their hands until the Mother shot then a quelling look. 

Head still bowed, the young woman whispered, "They call me Cheedo the Fragile."

"What was that? Cheeto Fracturable? What kind of name is that?"

"No, Mother," she said a little more loudly, eyes still to the dusty floor. "Cheedo. Cheedo the Fragile." 

With her eyes down as they were, Cheedo didn't see the Mother cross the distance between them to grasp her chin. The Mother manipulated the young woman until she had stooped to the Mother's height, but was looking at her eye to eye. "Your name might be Cheedo, but you don't ever call yourself the Fragile again. And don't let anyone else do it. Because anyone who can survive what you did? And keep going? Not what I'd ever call fragile. Y'got that?"

Cheedo nodded, eyes wide. The fire she saw in the Mother stripped days--years--from the older woman. "Yes, Mother."

"Big strapping girl like yourself," the Mother said as she released the young woman's chin. She gently slapped the girl’s face. "You up for being my assistant?"

"A-assisstant?"

"I can't count on Frick and Frack over there. All they do is give me lip!"

The Vuvalini cackled and grinned, not at all repentant.

"I need someone to go with me places. Translate. Be my legs when I'm tired, my eyes when they're cloudy, and remembers stuff better than I ever did." The Mother leaned on her walking stick and carefully eyed Cheedo, once again standing at her full height. "Think you can do it?"

"I... I don't..."

The Mother's eyebrows and chin both went up.

"Yes, I... I can do it. I can be your assistant."

The Mother crowed. "Wicked cool. Let's do this, kid. Cheedo the Strong. You ready to be strong?"

"I... I... Yes. Yes I am."

Fin[ite]

**Author's Note:**

> When I started writing this story, I really, *really* thought this would finally go in the vague direction of the overarching plot that was flitting through my mind for this series. I should have known better.


End file.
